


I'll Earn Your Trust Making Memories Of Us

by rememberthismoment



Series: Feels Like Home To Me [1]
Category: The Rookie (TV 2018)
Genre: Big Relationship Steps, Chenford Week 2020, Day 7, Established Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Lucy learns to trust, Tim is patient, cute moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25371901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rememberthismoment/pseuds/rememberthismoment
Summary: He asks the question in the glow of candlelight in a dimly lit restaraunt. It nervously fumbles out of his mouth as she is mid chew on her side salad. He watches as she quickly picks up her water glass to help the food go down quicker."Come again?"He takes a deep breath, "move in with me."--the small moments and steps that lead up to this question, and what follows as a result. Lucy heals from past hurts and learns to trust. Tim is content to be patient with her.--
Relationships: Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen
Series: Feels Like Home To Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018849
Comments: 14
Kudos: 75
Collections: Chenford Week 2020





	I'll Earn Your Trust Making Memories Of Us

**Author's Note:**

> This is my one contribution to Chenford Week 2020. I really wanted to participate more, but it has been so fun getting to read what everyone else has written. They have been the highlight of a really hard, stressful week. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and all of it's little moments of Lucy and Tim making big strides in their relationship! It was put together slowly, and piece by piece, throughout the week.
> 
> Title is from the song Making Memories of Us by Keith Urban

It starts with a toothbrush. He realizes it's there one morning when he goes to brush his teeth. His hand reaches for it, still half asleep, and it isn't until the toothpaste is already on it that the purple plastic catches his eye.

It's hers, and it wasn't there two mornings ago. It's hers, and he feels confident that it wasn't an accident.

He smiles and runs it under the tap water to wash the toothpaste off before reaching for his own.

 _ **You left your toothbrush**._

He texts her later that morning as he walks out his front door, a picture included of the toothbrush next to his in the cup.

**_I know._ **

She responds, an emoji of a heart and a kissy face attached to the end.

It's a small gesture of trust on her part. The rest of her things were still packed in an overnight bag when she came over. The drawer he had set aside for her a month ago was still empty. 

She wants to pace herself, and it starts with a toothbrush.

* * *

A few weeks after the toothbrush stays, a long sleeve pullover and a pair of athletic leggings follows. She keeps them in the once empty drawer. It's another small step and it matters. 

"It's for warmth purposes," she tells him through chattering teeth one night as she is getting ready to go to bed, pulling the clothes from the drawer. She has only been complaining about his house being cold for two months. "I need all of the layers I can get in this house." 

He rolls his eyes, and watches as she pulls the pullover on top of one of his old t-shirts and stretches the leggings over her bare legs. He tugs her close once she finds her way under the covers. 

"You know," he murmurs, forehead pressed to hers. His nose nudges hers gently. "There are other ways to keep you warm without so many...layers." 

His fingers pull at the thick fabric covering her arms. She giggles against his mouth, and he captures the noise into a kiss before making his way down to her chin and neck. 

"You mean, I get to adjust the thermostat now?" She whispers while he works, carding her fingers through his cropped hair. Her eyes are sparkling with mischief.

He pulls his head up to look at her. His eyes roll at her teasing smile, and his hands find there way up under the sweatshirt. Her breath catches as his fingers begin to dance across her andomen. She reaches down instinctively to grab at his wrists.

"Tim, do not even think about it." 

The warning is futile. The deal with the devil has already been made. His mind can not be changed. She's on her back before she can escape, and it becomes a full on tickle war. Although the fight seems unfair. Her trusted accomplice is outside in the backyard.

"Warm now?" He asks, hands resting on either side of her head and legs still straddling her waist. She glares at him through her labored breathing, still trying to regain control."That's what I thought." 

"You're a pain in my ass." 

He leans down and places a sloppy kiss on her cheek. "That's my job." 

The bed shifts as he crawls over her. She watches him saunter out the bedroom door to let Kojo in from the yard, smug as ever. While he is gone, she sheds her pull over and leggings and they find their way back into the empty drawer.

If she purposefully throws them in there without folding them just to spite him, she'll never tell. 

* * *

It's an accident this time. He gets the text message while he is sitting at his desk at the station, looking over paperwork. 

**_Did I leave my toiletry bag at your house?_**

He racks his brain, trying to remember if he had seen it on his bathroom counter this morning. It would probably help if he could remember what it looked like. It was dark green maybe? Or purple? He could have sworn there were flowers on it. He begins to message her back. 

_**Color? Pattern?** _

It's sent. He goes back to the file he was previously working on until he is interrupted again. He looks down at his buzzing phone to see the picture from their beach trip this past weekend. She is splashing around in the waves and he is grouching behind the camera that she is getting him wet. 

"It's the sacrifices you make as my instagram boyfriend," she tells him with a loud smile, snatching his phone from his hand to see the picture. He's annoyed that his shirt is wet, and he definitley rolls his eyes at his new title, but she starts gushing and his attitude quickly makes a turn around. "Tim, this is so good!" 

It is good. That's why he sets it as her contact picture. That's why it gets over 200 likes on Instagram. He didn't even know that she knew 200 people.

"Sergeant Bradford speaking." He answers, and tries (fails) to keep his tone professional and sharp. He can practically see her roll her eyes through the phone. "May I ask who this is?"

"Um hi, yes, my name is Lucy Chen. I would like to report a theft." He snorts, and she lets out a gasp on her end. "Sergeant Bradford, this is certainly not a laughing matter!" 

He shakes his head, and grabs the pen next to his hand, twirling it between his fingers.

"Alright, Ms. Chen, I am going to ask you some questions about the theft. Can you describe the offender?" 

"Eh, not great looking, honestly." 

It's straightforward, no inflection in her tone. His eyebrows raise at her admission, and his fingers stop fiddling with the pen. He leans forward in his chair, propping his elbows on his desk. 

"Sorry, ma'am. We're going to need more detailed descriptors than that to make the report."

"Tim," she whines, giving up the jig, a hint of a smile beneath her voice. He wished he were there to see it. "Where is my bag?" 

"So you insult me, and then expect me to give you answers?" There's an exasperated sigh on the other end of the phone at his teasing. He hears her begin to shuffle around, the vague sound of drawers opening and shutting in the background as he waits for her to respond. A minute passes and it never comes. "Luce?"

"Still here," she pipes up. Her voice is further off now. He assumes he has been set on a countertop or dresser somewhere, her phone now on speaker. "I'm trying to find an old stick of deodrant." 

"Babe," he says, and clicks the bottom of his pen against his desk. He hears a hum of a response on her end. "You have a key. You can go look for it at my house." 

There's some more shuffling on her end. He can hear her breathe into the phone. 

"Yeah?" Her voice is unsure. It's a question, not a statement, even if she already knows the answer. 

But she needs to hear him say it. She needs to be reassured that he wants her in his space. She wants to know that he isn't going to change his mind on her if she gets too close.

Tim knows it's not a judgement on his character that she steps slowly and somewhat unsure. He understands that it's her past hurts. He almost put cockroaches in a wedding gift as revenge for those hurts. So he will always be there to reassure her and answer her questions, and his answers will be the same everytime. 

"I _want_ you to use your key, Lucy." 

_I want you in my space. I am not going to change my mind on you. Please get close. Too close._

"Okay," she breathes, and he hears relief. Then she is smiling again, and if he closes his eyes, he can picture it perfectly. "Don't be surprised if I am still snuggled up with Kojo when you get home."

He smiles in kind and leans back against his office chair. "Perfect. I'll cook dinner for us." 

* * *

She rarely is at her apartment anymore. She packs less bags because most of what she needs is already here. 

A journal, and pens on her side of the bed. Some of her clothes in his closet and in the drawer along with the pullover and leggings. An extra set of shampoo and conditioner in the shower. Fruity smelling facewash at his sink, deodrant in a bathroom drawer.

It all happens in a flurry of consecutive long nights at his place, and slow mornings sipping coffee while they get ready for work together.

"I want to take you to dinner tonight," he tells her over the noise of the running shower. It distracts him enough that he can't think about his nerves. 

The sink comes on from her side of the shower curtain. He hears her spit the toothpaste out of her mouth, and then quickly gargle water to rinse. 

"Ooo, what's the special occasion?" She baits, her voice muffled through the washcloth she is using to dry the sides of her mouth. 

His stomach drops. He finishes rinsing his body off, and cuts the water. His hands reach for the towel on the rack next to the tub, and he dries himself off before stepping out with it wrapped around his waist. He smiles when he sees her standing at the sink beginning to work her hair into frenchbraids. She looks over at him with the question still in her twinkling eyes. 

"Does there have to be a special occasion?" 

He's bluffing. Unsuccessfully, he would like to add. His voice is shaky and he can tell that she wants to call him on it, but she doesn't. She just shrugs and shakes her head, before turning back to the mirror. 

It is a special occasion, a possible big step in their relationship. A small part of him is scared that he could be pushing something that she isn't ready for, but a big part of him is sure that she's prepared to make the jump. If the last few months weren't there to speak for themselves, she pretty much tells him so last night as they lay in his bed. 

"You're home to me, ya know?" She whispers in the dark room right as he is about to drift off to sleep. Her fingers walk themselves up his chest as they lay entertwined under his sheets. He looks down at her and can barely trace the outline of her face looking back at him. He gently squeezes her arm. Her toes curl against his calf. "I didn't think I would be able to get here again. To feel this safe in someone else's space. Thank you for being patient with me." 

He wants to tell her that he feels the same way. That he didn't think he would be able to get here again either. He didn't think he could be with someone without waiting for the ball to drop and for them to up and leave. Because they did, they always left, whether it was for drugs or a dream job in New York. 

But Lucy, _Lucy_ stays, and he never questions or fears that she will change her mind. 

"Always," he murmurs against her hair, and places a kiss there. It's all he can manage to say right now. He feels her smile against his chest. It's the same smile she is giving him now as he passes behind her, and catches his eye in the reflection of the mirror.

"Love you," she says, twisting the bottom of her braid through an elastic. He tugs on the one already finished with his fingers. 

"Love you too. Wear something nice tonight." 

He leaves the bathroom and he can feel her curious eyes follow him out. 

* * *

He asks the question in the glow of candlelight in a dimly lit restaraunt. It nervously fumbles out of his mouth as she is mid chew on her side salad. He watches as she quickly picks up her water glass to help the food go down quicker. 

"Come again?" 

He takes a deep breath, "move in with me." 

It's not a question but a statement this time. She nervously tucks a piece of curled hair behind her ear. He watches every small movement and twitch that her face makes, from her biting her lip to the slow nod of her head. 

"Okay," she says softly, and her eyes slowly find his. There is emotion there, a sudden onset of tears wetting her bottom lashes. He holds his hand out over the fabric of the white table cloth, and she takes hold of it, curling her fingers around his. "Yes, I will move in with you!" 

* * *

It starts with a toothbrush, followed by a pull over and leggings, an accidental toiletry bag, and half of her closet and bathroom at her old apartment.

It ends with the hottest day of the California Summer thus far. Her apartment is now empty, and boxes (too many boxes) are packed in the back of a moving truck. 

The metal door of the trailer loudly groans as he pulls it down to latch it, and he groans along with it. 

"You okay?" she pipes up from the passenger seat of the idle truck, her voice carrying out the window.

His hand taps the metal of the door twice, and he lifts the collar of his shirt up to his forehead to wipe some of the sweat off. When he looks around the corner of the trailer, she catches him in her sideview mirror and twists her head to look at him, eyebrows furrowed with concern. 

"Yeah," he nods in assurance. She relaxes again. "Just hotter than hell." 

"Yeah, you are," She teases softly with a wink. He shakes his head with a smile and makes his way to the driver's side. He is already being offered water, and the A/C is up tenfold before he can even get settled in. "Drink water. Cool down. We can't make any unecessary stops at the ER on the way. I need you in top knotch condition." 

"Yes, ma'am," he says before bringing the water to his lips and taking a long swig. Lucy is across the console staring at him, the sunlight dancing across her eager face. "You in a rush to get somewhere?" 

"Yes, actually," she nods, and leans across the console. Her hand reaches for his cheek to pull him toward her. He follows direction without hesitation, and he sees it there in her eyes when he gets closer.

She is ready for this.

"Take me home," she orders, each word broken up by a kiss to his lips.

Who was he to say no to that?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think!


End file.
